


Deadly

by bee_kind



Series: Born Under a Bad Sign [3]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Murder, Poisoning, Torture, mentions of:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 20:57:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bee_kind/pseuds/bee_kind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven of Thanos's children consider their sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deadly

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing that's been rollin' around in my head.

i. Wrath  
  
For as long as Nebula could remember, she’d been angry.  
  
Angry at her parents for leaving her in that brothel.  
  
Angry at Thanos for wiping out her planet.  
  
Angry at her siblings for being so goddamned obedient.   
  
Angry at Gamora for outshining her.   
  
She’d been angry her entire life, but the first time she felt rage...the first time she’d picked up a man and killed him simply because she’d felt like it...that had been under Ronan. He brought out the beast in her, the part of her that hadn’t been replaced with wires and metal. He made her feel alive again. If she was accused of stewing in her anger, then Ronan was boiling with it. Hatred poured from his mouth like acid, ready to scorch and devour any who stepped in its path. She admired his conviction.

Despite Gamora’s foolish, inevitable betrayal, she knew that this radical was going to complete his goals and that they didn’t need her sister to do it. So, when he’d turned to her after defying her father, easily the most powerful being in the galaxy, with a snarl on his lips, ready to smite her where she stood, she felt the ghost of a smile prick at her lips.

She would’ve destroyed a thousand planets for him.

  
  
ii. Avarice  
  
He should’ve stopped while he was ahead.  
  
These mad grabs for power never went well, that much he’d learned from his father.   
  
You’d be on the home stretch, staring into the face of certain success, and then some half-wit, inbred hero type would come along and fuck it all up. Astral wiped the blood off of his lips with the back of his hand and stared up at the Kree accuser.  
  
A smile like a jackknife broke across his face and he laughed, a dry, desolate sound. His father hadn’t trained him to exhibit fear.   
  
“You should have left Hala be.” True, he was a fool for trying to conquer the Kree homeworld, but who wouldn’t have tried? His reach extended over much of the eastern sector of the galaxy, and he’d built himself an empire of twenty-six planets, the inhabitants of which all knelt to him as their unequalled king and his father as their god.The luscious planet would’ve been the crown jewel in his collection of worlds, his father would’ve lauded him. Too bad he was going to die here and his blood would stain the steps of the palace of justice.  
  
“Astral, Son of Thanos, you stand accused.”

Four eyes swiveled in their sockets to stare up at the blue man, bright with madness. “Of what? Trying to improve this steaming shithole of a world? Or being too slow in rescuing you from your ignorance? Maybe I’m guilty of being your superior in every way-”  
  
“Silence! Your greed has made you bold, fool.”

Golden eyes narrowed to slits.  
  
“My ambition has made me fearless.”

“Your sentence is death.” Astral shrugged good-naturedly and laughed.  
  
“Ah, well. I suppose it happens to the best of us.”

  
Even as the hammer came down, the grin never faltered.

**  
**  


iii. Gluttony

Obscura drank deeply of the worlds her father sent her to, took her fill and was never sated. She knew that was why her siblings hated her, hated how she’d report back to the throne, her face smeared with blood of all colors.   
  
Her hunger ruled her.

The Other claimed it was a lack of discipline, those from the planets she feasted from reviled her as a demon. Only her father respected her need to feed. That was why she was the one chosen to administer justice on the planets he owned, was it not? She was excellent at spreading fear. In the dark, the cowards would sit in their mud huts, clutching their children close, knowing that there was a monster out in the darkness, waiting for them to misstep.

And she was always hungry.

iv. Sloth

There was no purpose to Nadira. She contributed literally nothing to Thanos’s military might; of all his children, she was the weakest physically, and she knew this. Reveled in it. Loved the faces of monarchs when they saw that Thanos’s weakling had been sent to regulate their agreements with the overlord.   
  
Nadira did not fight, and had never enjoyed the brutish, nasty deaths her siblings pursued with their whips and swords and teeth. She could fire a blaster and kill a man only at point-blank range, and had no idea how to wield cannons.  
  
But, oh could she poison.

Nadira had once whipped up a brew that had melted an Askavarian’s flesh clean off his body, and another that had stopped his wife’s heart within minutes. She knew how to slip her potions in to food, water, medicines, make-up, and had once killed a man through his bedsheets. Oh, she was lazy, yes, but not incompetent.   
  
And never unarmed.

v. Lust  
  
Kesna did not want in the way that others wanted.   
  
She did not one night full of sweat and passion, only to be abandoned the next morning and wake to a cold bed and silence.   
  
She wanted companionship, she wanted conversation.  
  
She wanted love.  
  
And perhaps that was why she’d allowed herself to be tricked by the pale-skinned being with the silver tongue.  
  
She, unlike the rest of her siblings, was not a murderer. She killed by necessity, not for sport. She was her father’s bloodhound. When he needed someone brought to him, it was she that was sent out into the stars to coil her whip round their throat and haul them back. She did not take pleasure in the kill, for her position was one of preservation, not destruction. All of her targets gave her some chase, but they were all hunted down, all wrapped up, and all brought to her father’s realm in the end. No matter how hard they ran, no matter what distant corners of the galaxy they fled to, she would find them. She always found them.

The child of Asgard had been different.   
  
Loki, son of none, had not been running from her, or anyone else. He’d been dying when she found him, he’d been dying for centuries. Time ran differently in her father’s realm. He’d wandered through it by mistake and found himself trapped, the life slowly being sucked from his body by those wide, black stars. She’d caught him softly, retrieved him and gave him as much comfort as one could muster in the realm of Thanos. Whenever she visited him, he cut her down with his words, fashioning them into spikes and barbs to defend himself, fences to keep her out.

She’d not minded. He was so different, so other in a way that was so much better than what she’d known. He seemed to be made of pure starlight, despite the darkness in his eyes, and it was in her nature to chase.   
  
She wanted him too much.

vi. Envy  
  
Nova was the best.   
  
Better than that cybernetic bitch, Nebula.  
  
Better than her green-skinned twin.  
  
Better than Astral who’s ego had gotten the better of him.  
  
Better Nadira who couldn’t keep her mouth shut and was too much of a coward to kill someone to their face.

  
Better than Kesna who wouldn’t kill and better than Obscura, who couldn’t stop.  
  
See, they were all weak, certainly not as strong as him, and never as strong as Father.  
  
He’d been the first, the first child Thanos had graced by rescuing him from those beneath him. He was the chosen son. He’d always have more time spent with Father, more hours spent under his tutelage.  He’d known he was special the moment he realized that the Chitauri had to keep their heads down in his presence and that the Other had to obey his wishes.  
  
Then his father had left and returned with Astral on his knee.   
  
Astral, that foolish little weakling who cried with four bright, verdant eyes wide open at all times and clung to his nursemaid’s knee.   
  
He’d hated him from the moment the brat had opened his mouth. Then had come Obscura and Nebula and Gamora, then Nadira and more and more, until Kesna showed up and the takings ceased. His father rarely spent attention on him anymore, and he didn’t think his hatred was unwarranted. The little brats weren’t important, it was Nova who’d lead the empire one day. All Father should’ve needed was him, right?

Right?

vii. Pride

When Gamora stared into the mirror for the first time, completely certain that no one was staring back, or monitoring her movements, or watching her heart rate, she grinned. She grinned like a fool, she grinned like the child she never was. She was free and she had a family now. People who’d fight with her and for her, for no other reason than that she was their friend. She didn’t have to sleep with one eye open, worrying about whether they’d slay her in her sleep. She was apart of something here, something beautiful.  
  
Something she could be proud of.

 


End file.
